Pardek Meets His Match
by thyme2read
Summary: AU rom-com based on the episodes, "Unification," parts I and II. With to the recent capture of a Federation ship, the Romulan slave market was flooded with humans. Among the surviving Starfleet officers were Captain Jamille Shane, and her first officer, Beatrice Wylder. This is their story. Co-written by LornaWinters.
1. Chapter 1

This story is an AU based on the TNG episodes "Unification," parts I and II. I just want to say many thanks to my co-writer, LornaWinters, without whose collaboration this story wouldn't have been half so much fun. Enjoy!

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Pardek Meets His Match: Chapter 1

It was an unusually bright sunny day in the Romulan captial city. Due to the recent capture of a Federation ship, the slave market was flooded with humans. Most Romulans looked forward to these rare occasions with relish. Humans were among the cheapest labor to be had, and the benefits to keeping them more than outweighed the cost. Most importantly, these instances reminded them of their glorious destiny, when their empire would span the galaxy, and all humans would be under their dominion.

Among the few surviving Starfleet officers were Captain Jamille Shane, and her first officer, Beatrice Wylder.

"Great, just great! How did we end up in this mess anyway?" Beatrice rattled her chains in frustration.

"If that idiot ensign had followed orders, we wouldn't be in this mess." Jamille sighed. Then she grimaced and shook her head. "I don't believe this! Get a load of Cinderella over there."

"What?" Beatrice looked over to see a lovely human lady with a Romulan official of considerable distinction. "You think she started out like we are now?"

"I don't know, but she makes me sick! What woman wants a Romulan for her man?"

Just then, the human lady noticed them and visibly started. Then she began to entreat the Romulan.

"Is she trying to...?" Jamille trailed off.

"Looks to be that way. Guess I'd rather she bought us than some of the other people around here. They look like they're gonna eat us alive." It wasn't far from the truth. The buyers were rubbing their hands in anticipation, eager to get their hands on some human slaves.

"M'Ret, my love, we have to buy them," they heard the lady say. "I can't stand to see other humans abused and humiliated!" She was near tears.

"Of course, my dear Rosetta," Vice Proconsul M'Ret replied. "You know I'd do anything for you." He opened the bid.

"Well, it could be worse," said Jamille. If the situation wasn't so serious, she probably would have laughed.

But their hopes were soon dashed when an older woman made a higher offer. The bids went back and forth, with the auctioneer's eyes bouncing like ping pong balls. At last, Vice Proconsul M'Ret could go no higher. He had a wife and estate to maintain, not to mention the many other servants he already had.

"Sold!" the auctioneer cried, "To the soup woman!"

Rosetta burst into tears. M'Ret tried to console her. "We can't solve all of the problems of the galaxy, my dear."

Beatrice tried to stay positive. "Hey, a soup kitchen can't be that bad, right?"

"I'll reserve judgment until I see it." They followed the soup woman down the street.

Not long after, another human was being prepared for the auction block. Unlike the military personnel, most of the civilians were spared, since it was believed they would offer little resistance. Janette felt intimidated by the jeering crowd. What was going to happen to her?

"Stop sulking and stand up straight!" ordered the slave trader. "No one's going to buy you if you keep slouching like that."

But Janette only frowned all the more. What an awful twist of fate this was! And what kind of master would she end up with? She shuddered at the thought of working for a cruel, vicious man.

Then suddenly, she noticed a dashing centurion go by. As well as being rather handsome, there was also kindness in his face. She couldn't say the same about the rest of the crowd. He didn't seem interested in buying anybody, however, as he moved past the sale without even a glance.

Janette decided to seize the opportunity before he got away. "Yoo hoo? Centurion?"

He stopped in mid-stride. "How dare you address me, human?"

"I just want you to buy me," she responded innocently.

He was almost stupefied. "I...I don't want to buy you."

But Janette wasn't at all deterred. "I can tell you're a busy man. I'll clean your house for you, and I'm an excellent cook!"

The centurion considered for a moment. He had just been promoted, and with that came a house of his own. It was very different from living in the barracks. Come to think of it, his new house was indeed a mess. He hadn't had a decent meal ever since he last visited his mother, and if he had to eat viinerine one more time, he would puke. Perhaps having a servant around wouldn't be such a bad idea.

"Oh, alright, fine." He caught the auctioneer's attention, and bought her.

"You won't regret this." She batted her eyelashes sweetly.

He rolled his own eyes. "I regret it already! And you will address me as Centurion Bochra!" Secretly, he was relieved. Now he was one step closer to having the life he was accustomed to. But there was no reason for the silly girl to know that.

Meanwhile, Jamille and Beatrice were led by the soup woman to a cafe not far down the street.

"This place is a dump!" Beatrice exclaimed in disgust.

The soup woman whirled around. "Is it now?" She shoved mops into their hands. "Well, why don't you rectify that? We open in one hour. This place better be clean by then." With that, she went off cackling to the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

"Nice going," Jamille snapped.

* * *

The women swept and mopped diligently. The café was not very large, but it was very dirty, and every time someone came in the door they tracked in dust from the street, but thankfully this didn't happen very often in the morning, since the café didn't open until lunch. Periodically the soup woman would return to inspect their work and nag them about it.

They had been working for quite a while when the door chime sounded. A rotund, jovial Romulan entered. His smile widened even more when he saw Beatrice. "Is lunch ready yet?"

Bea could speak basic Romulan, but she pretended not to understand him and kept mopping. As soon as the soup woman noticed her prominent customer she transformed from a sour-mouthed tyrant into an obsequious hostess.

"Senator Pardek," she bowed. "Lunch will be served in a moment."

"Is my usual table ready?"

"As you see," she replied, motioning toward the only window seat. There was even a small vase with a flower in it at the center of the table. "Please make yourself comfortable, sir, and I will see if the soup is ready."

"Very good. Oh, just a moment," Pardek stopped her. "Who are they?" he asked, pointing toward Jamille and Beatrice.

"They are slaves. I just bought them this morning," supplied the soup woman.

From the Federation vessel we captured, Pardek surmised. "What kind of soup is on the menu today?"

"Ssalli," she replied, and glided away to the kitchen, beckoning the newly acquired slaves to follow her.

Once they reached the kitchen, she said, "It's not seemly to mop while the customers are eating. You," she turned to Jamille, "put the mops away, then come back and start serving the customers."

Jamille grumbled under her breath and headed for the broom closet. She wasn't going to stand for this for long. She didn't know how yet, but she was going to find a way out of this menial mess.

The soup woman glared at Beatrice. "Well? What are you waiting for?" She pointed toward a row of bowls that the cook was filling and setting out on the counter. "Serve the Senator first, and don't let the soup get cold!"

Beatrice took one of the bowls and placed it on a tray with a roll of freshly baked bread and a set of silverware wrapped in a napkin. It seemed to be a vegetable soup of sorts, and after two or three days of eating nothing but bread and water, it looked quite delicious.

There was a ghost of a grin on Pardek's face when she set the tray in front of him.

"Here's your soup. Jolan tru," said Bea.

"Just a moment," said Pardek. He picked up the spoon and leaned forward to take a good whiff of the appetizing aroma, then smiled broadly. Bea gathered from his appearance that he must eat at this greasy spoon fairly often. "This ssalli smells better than usual. Did you make it yourself?"

"No," she replied, trying her best to keep her annoyance out of her voice. "Is that all, sir?"

"Yes, that is all… for the present. Jolan tru."

Bea and Jamille got back to the kitchen at the same time. Presently, a tall, formidable-looking officer wearing a grey Tal Shiar uniform stalked into the café and demanded, "Service!"

The women exchanged wry glances. "It's your turn," said Bea.

"Service!" the man repeated, slamming his fists.

Jamille took a tray, marched over to table, and practically dropped it down in front of the officer. It was a wonder the soup didn't spill.

"You would do well to be careful, human," said the officer.

"And you would do well to learn some manners," she muttered under her breath and turned to walk away.

"What was that?"

"Enjoy your meal, sir," she replied.

"Ugh!" the officer threw the spoon down in disgust. "This soup is cold, Earth woman. Take it back and bring me another," he ordered, tossing the napkin into the bowl.

Jamille complied. "Hurry up, woman! I have an important meeting to get to," said the officer as she approached. She set the tray in front of him, and once again headed back toward the kitchen.

"Earth woman!" the officer shouted again, and Jamille suppressed the urge to stomp her foot. "This silverware is dirty."

"Is it?" she asked sarcastically. Her last nerve was now gone. She was hungry and tired, and this guy was being a complete jerk! "Let me see it." When she reached over to take the spoon from him, she "accidentally" knocked over his bowl, sending its contents into his lap.

"Clumsy wench!"

"I'm so sorry," she feigned, hanging her head low so that he wouldn't see her pursing her lips together to keep from smiling. "I'll get you another one," she said quietly.

"Never mind!" With a sweep of his arm, he threw everything onto the floor. "I'm late! Get out of my way!" He shoved her to the ground and stormed out of the restaurant.

The soup woman practically ran after him. "Wait! Major Rekar, come back!" When it was clear that he wasn't going to return, she glared at Jamille. "It's not wise to anger the Tal Shiar! You're lucky to be alive, girl! One more stunt like that, and you won't be! Go clean the toilets! I'll decide what to do with you later."

Jamille picked herself up and headed toward the restrooms. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire," she whispered, "But it was worth it just to see Major Rekar throw a hissy fit." Once in the first stall, she burst into giggles. For a Romulan, he's actually kind of cute...

* * *

Chapter 2 will be posted soon!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Janette followed Centurion Bochra through the streets to what was now her home. Once inside, she noted that it was relatively small, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. A smaller abode would take less time to clean, and things were quite untidy. There were unpacked boxes and clothes everywhere, as well as ale cans in random places. It had bachelor pad written all over it, and it was screaming for a woman's touch.

The first place he brought her to was the kitchen. It had an antique obsidian fireplace, but thankfully also included modern cooking appliances. Light streamed in from windows high above, reflecting on the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and all over the counter.

"I have an appointment this afternoon," he said, pointing a warning finger, "but I'll be back in time for dinner. Your cooking had better be up to par."

After that, he took her on a brief tour of the rest of the townhouse. There was a small courtyard in the back, which included an elegant fountain in the center. Janette imagined she would spend much of her free time there, whenever Centurion Bochra wasn't around. Given that he really was a busy man, she surmised that would be often.

Immediately, she got to work, unsure as to how much time she would have before he got back. His footsteps sounded down the hallway. She looked up and watched him walk out the front door in his spiffy dress uniform. Where was he going anyway? He looked so dapper and dreamy that she found it was actually a pleasure to clean his house for him. In two shakes of a lamb's tail, supper was simmering on the stove and the house was clean. There were of course little spots that only she would notice, but those could wait until morning.

Janette sat down beside the fountain outside in the courtyard with satisfaction. The warm evening breeze blew gently in her face. Yes, this arrangement would suit her just nicely. When she had first arrived on Romulus that morning, her future looked bleak. Now, she suddenly found that she didn't mind being a slave, if it meant being in the service of Centurion Bochra.

She leaned against the stone wall and sighed, hoping he would come home soon. He had been gone for hours. Surely, he must be ravenous by now, the poor dear. He really needed to take better care of himself. Just because he had been promoted didn't make him superman. She was imagining him gobbling up the dinner when she fell fast asleep.

* * *

After Pardek left, Bea went to retrieve the dirty dishes. To her surprise, there were a few coins on the table, but before she could pick them up, the soup woman snatched them up and tucked them into her pocket.

"Slaves don't get wages," she said, "but this will go toward your room and board. Get back to work."

When the soup woman finally allowed them to quit for the day, she showed Bea and Jamie to their "quarters," which was located in the loft above the café. It was really more akin to a jail cell, since it was furnished with only two rudimentary cots, a sink, and a toilet. There was one window, which was the only source of light.

The women plopped heavily onto their cots, lamented their lots, and speculated about the best way to get out of their present predicament.

The next few days panned out much as the first had. Wake up before dawn, dust, clean the window, sweep, mop, and wipe the tables until lunch. Then serve the customers. When the café closed, they'd be allowed about 10 minutes to eat a quick meal, then they'd wash dishes, silverware, and fold napkins. After that, they'd scrub the kitchen until it "sparkled" (which really meant until sundown). Why the Romulans refused to use replicators Bea and Jamille could not understand.

Pardek came every day and always sat in the same spot. That Tal Shiar officer, Rekar, usually showed up as well, and always seemed to be watching them intently.

By the third day, Bea began to suspect that Pardek had taken a shine to her, much to her dismay. Her boss must have noticed, too, because she always insisted on her delivering his tray. Her suspicion was confirmed that afternoon. After the café closed, Pardek didn't leave, but stood there haggling with the soup woman about something in the Romulan language.

Presently some sort of agreement was reached. Money changed hands, and the soup woman announced to them that they'd be leaving that afternoon to work for Senator Pardek.

The women exchanged uncomfortable glances, then Pardek grinned and said, "If you'll follow me…"

They followed him to his office across the street, and were directed to wait until he finished up a few tasks. Then one of his guards arrived in the flitter and they all flew back to Pardek's mansion, which like most Senators' homes, was located just outside the capital.

The house was colossal and richly furnished. Once they arrived inside Pardek called aside a few of the resident servants and gave them some instructions.

"What's he saying?" whispered Jamille.

"That we'll be working in the kitchen… and they are not to bother us," Bea whispered back.

Jamille sighed. Kitchens again. But at least now they didn't have to answer to the stingy soup woman.

* * *

The next day, Centurion Bochra stopped by the café for some lunch, and noticing Senator Pardek in his usual spot, he decided to join him.

Pardek was one of the more approachable Senators, a man of the people who was generally well liked by his constituents.

"Jolan tru, Senator," Bochra greeted him.

"Bochra! Jolan tru. Please, sit down," said Pardek. "I heard you got promoted recently. Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir."

"Have you gotten your own flat yet?" asked the Senator.

Bochra answered positively and began to eat his soup.

"I remember when I got my first place," recalled Pardek. "I was about your age, too, so that was about, oh… 115 years ago. It was a real mess, too. Stayed that way for several months, until one morning I nearly lost some important papers, and I came dangerously close to reporting late. You know how commanding officers feel about that!"

Bochra smiled and nodded in understanding.

"Well, after that I realized that a disorderly man will never achieve much, and I kept everything in military order. I recommend that you do the same."

"That's good advice, sir, but I have a Terran to cook and clean for me."

"Do you now? Then you're already ahead of the game. Good for you."

Pardek and Bochra continued to chat for a few minutes until they finished eating.

"Well, sir. I must be going now. Jolan tru."

Pardek bid him a good day and went back to his office across the street.

A few minutes later, Major Rekar marched into the café, and as before, he banged on the table and demanded "Service!"

But instead of the pretty little Terran shrew, it was the soup woman who answered his call.

"Major Rekar," she smiled thinly. "It is good of you to visit us again. Sit down, and I will fetch you some soup."

"Wait," said Rekar, looking around. "Where are the Terrans?"

"I sold them yesterday," she answered triumphantly.

"To whom?"

"Senator Pardek, and he paid me twice what they're worth! I don't know why, because I found them to be quite lazy and churlish. But for the amount he paid I could afford to hire some decent Romulan help…"

She continued to ramble on for several minutes, but Rekar was no longer listening. Pardek bought them, hmmm? "Perhaps it's time I paid old Pardek a visit," he said to himself with a mischievous grin.

* * *

Stay tuned for Chapter 3!


	3. Chapter 3

That evening, Rekar walked up to Pardek's doorstep as though he owned the place. The two servants at the door eyed him suspiciously.

"You're not on the guest list, Major," the taller one informed him.

Normally, he would have taken the time to persuade them into admitting him, just to stroke his own ego. But this particular evening, he was anxious to see that glorious female again. He didn't want to waste time on these underlings.

He flashed his Tal Shiar badge. "Check the list again."

The shorter servant, clearly the leader of the two, held the taller one back. "Why yes, you are. My apologies. Have a good time, Major."

Pardek's grand house was decked to the nines. Food and wine were flowing freely, and there were acrobats to entertain the guests. It had been years since Pardek had thrown a party, and Rekar searched his memory to find what the occasion for this one could be. There was no reason he could think of. To all appearances, ol' Pardek just wanted to have a soirée to amuse himself.

Rekar scanned the grand vestibule. Naturally, guests from all levels of society had been invited. "A man of the people," he grumbled to himself. Pardek was such a socialist. He half expected to find the human servants to be guests themselves. But then again, that was why the rotund senator always got re-elected in this province. Rekar rolled his eyes in disgust and moved on to the next room.

When he entered the grand hall, he remembered that he would probably be there for a while. He grabbed a drink from a passing waiter, and searched the room. He caught the eye of Centurion Bochra, who was clearly surprised to see him there. Rekar raised his glass in greeting. Bochra was intelligent enough to know that he hadn't been invited, but he knew better than to say anything.

At last he spotted her. She was carrying a try of empty glasses back to the kitchen. Her ebony hair reflected the soft lighting above her. He could see the muscles in her shapely arms contract as she lifted the tray over her head in order to pass between the groups of guests without disturbing them.

"Elements..." he whispered, taken aback by her beauty. Even in rags, she was the most lovely woman there. He was about to follow her, when the dinner chime sounded. The guests all moved to the dining room, and he was unable to go against the tide of Romulanity without making a scene. He went with the flow to dinner.

"Major Rekar," Pardek greeted him, "I'm pleased you accepted my invitation."

Rekar smirked, proud that he had managed to crash the party without smelling like a rat, "Thank you for inviting me."

Because of the large volume of guests, and no doubt Pardek's egalitarian views, the dining room didn't have a table. Instead, large cushions were arranged in semi-circles all around the room. Small side tables were scattered about for empty glasses, which were promptly gathered up by the servants. There was a large space left in the middle of the room, and Rekar expected there would be more entertainment to come while they ate.

He found a cushion, kicked back, and relaxed. Jamille would probably end up on his side of the room to pick up the empty dishes eventually, so he may as well enjoy himself until she came to him. The courses were many and varied. They were all finger foods, each designed to thrill the senses. Each was different from the previous dish; yet at the same time, its flavors built on and complimented everything that came before it.

All the while, the entertainers improvised witty riddles and humorous scenarios, based upon suggestions from their audience. Everyone was heartily enjoying themselves. Rekar had to admit, at least to himself, Pardek sure knew how to throw a party. This was the life.

Before he knew it, dinner was over, and he snapped back to reality. A signal was given for the guests to move on to the next room. Rekar smiled to himself. Soon, the servants would come around to clean up. Jamille would surely be among them. When he was sure nobody was looking, he retreated behind a column to wait until everyone was gone.

* * *

"Ah, Centurion Bochra! I've been looking for you," Pardek greeted him jovially. Then he lowered his voice. "There is a particular matter I need your advice about."

"Of course, I will do whatever I can, Senator," he replied, somewhat surprised. "I am honored that you would ask me." Pardek had done him many favors, so he figured it was the least he could do.

"Naturally, I was just like you when I was your age." He led him over to an empty corner of the drawing room, and refilled their glasses. "You see, there is a certain young lady who has captured my fancy, and for the first time in my life, I don't know how to go about telling her."

"I don't see how you have anything to fear, Senator. She would be foolish indeed to spurn a man of your distinction."

"Not foolish," he corrected, "But perhaps young and naïve. You see, I don't know if she'd want somebody so old as I am. If she doesn't want me, I wouldn't want to damage our relationship."

"Hmmm," Bochra took a sip of his drink.

"You see my predicament, Centurion. What would you do in my place?" Despite his calm demeanor, the good senator was at his wit's end.

Bochra felt for him, but he hadn't ever been in a situation such as that. "Well, perhaps you could ask her subtly, as you did me just now? Ask her what she'd do if she were in your place. Let her answer be your guide."

"Yes, yes!" he beamed. "That's exactly what I'll do. You've been invaluable to me, Centurion. I'll never forget your kind gesture." With that, he was off to tend to his other guests.

He shook his head with amusement. One never knew what would happen at one of Pardek's soirées.

* * *

After Pardek and his guests had retreated to the drawing room, Major Rekar lingered in the dining room and watched Bea and Jamille clear the dishes.

Jamille in particular did not like the way he was staring at her. She dropped the stack of dishes onto the rolling tray and scowled at him. "Are you looking for a problem?" she asked, perching a hand on her hip.

Rekar grinned. "I found you, didn't I?"

She opened her mouth to retort, then with an icy stare she turned on her heel and marched off into the kitchen.

Rekar followed. "I must say, I've never seen you so dedicated to your work."

"Don't you have anything better to do?" said Bea, but Rekar ignored her entirely.

He crossed his arms and leaned up against the counter. "You know, I'm really not so bad once you get to know me."

Jamille began washing the dishes. "I don't want to get to know you. I don't want anything to do with you."

"If you weren't a human, I might have actually thought you sort of pretty."

"And if you knew anything about women you wouldn't give out backhanded compliments," she replied.

The Romulan scowled. "You would do well to learn your place and show more respect to your superiors, human."

"Stop calling me that!"

"Why?" he smirked. "You don't like to be reminded that you're inferior?"

Jamille seethed and shot him a look that could have curdled milk.

"Uh, we have names, you know," said Bea acerbically. "And last time we checked you were not our boss!"

"Let's get one thing straight," said Jamille, looking the Tal Shiar officer dead in the eyes. Forcing herself to ignore his handsome features, she said, "You are not my superior in ANY sense of the word, and I don't owe you anything, least of all my respect!"

"You are very bold, Earth woman."

"Oh I haven't even got started yet!" said Jamille, grabbing a metal spoon from the dishwater and brandishing it.

Bea decided it was time to intervene and stepped between them. "Okay, okay, that's enough!" Then to Rekar she said, "Since you're obviously too high and mighty to waste your time with us, why don't you just be a good little imp and run along to the drawing room with the other gremlins?"

"How dare you address me in that manner!"

"Major Rekar? What are you doing here?" asked a female voice from the doorway.

Rekar turned to see Lady Rosetta standing there. "I was just leaving," he answered, now that he had an audience. He didn't care what Beatrice and the other servants thought of him, but he didn't want to make a scene in front of M'Ret's wife. As a parting shot, he warned them, "You may have fooled Pardek, but I know you're up to something. Be wary, Earth women…" He pointed at his eyes, then at them. "My eye is on you."

As soon as he was gone, Bea breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Thank you! Jamille was about to cook him for tomorrow's dinner!"

"Major Rekar is a powerful man. It is not wise to anger him," said Rosetta.

"Everyone keeps saying that!" said Jamille, putting the spoon back in the dishwater. "I don't care who he is. I won't be spoken to like that. But thanks anyway, for getting rid of him."

"You don't need to thank me. I am always ready to help a fellow Terran," said Rosetta. "I hope you have been treated well here?"

"Could be better, but the soup kitchen was worse," answered Beatrice. "If you don't mind me asking, who are you, anyway? And how did you end up with the Vice Proconsul?"

Rosetta sat at the kitchen table and told them her story. "My name is Rosetta Thyme. Like you, I started out as a slave, except that I was born into servitude. I grew up at Pertinax Manor, the ancestral home of the man who is now my husband. When we were children he used to tease and torment me, but I felt sorry for him because I knew him to be unhappy. Poor little M'Ret, he had everything a child could wish for except the love of his parents. Despite his best efforts, his mother and father never showed him any affection. But they were quick to point out his failures and shortcomings.

"Once he reached adulthood, he joined the Imperial Navy and I didn't hear anything about him for several years. Then one day he was badly wounded in a skirmish and sent home to recover. Naturally, everyone regarded this as yet another failure on his part, and he told me later that he considered suicide at one point.

"Anyway, to make a long story short, it fell to my lot to watch over him and tend to his wounds. He was very bitter and short with me at first, but over time he grew more quiet and thoughtful. Sometimes I would read to him to pass the time, and then we'd talk for hours. It wasn't long before I fell in love with him, though I never dared to say so. I thought that he loved me, too, but once he was fully recovered he went away again, and I figured it must have all been on my side.

"Three years later, his father died and control of everything passed to him. I was picking some herbs in the garden one day when he came to find me. He said that he didn't care that I was human, because I was the only person who truly cared about him. He told me that I'd saved his life, that he loved me, and that if I'd consent to be his wife he'd be the most fortunate man in the Empire."

"Wow," said Bea. "That's so romantic!"

"That's all well and good," said Jamille, "but I'm not planning on marrying anybody to get out of this predicament."

"Yeah, me either," said Bea, snapping back to reality. "Is there any possible way you could help us escape?"

Rosetta shook her head. "No, I'm afraid that's beyond my means. M'Ret says that it's nearly impossible to escape from Romulus."

"Nothing's impossible," said Jamille. "It might be difficult, but we'll find a way."

* * *

AN: Mwahahahahahaha! Chapter 4 will be posted tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Readers, hats off to you for all those incredibly funny reviews!**

* * *

The next morning, Bea and Jamille were sent to the market to buy fresh herbs and vegetables for dinner that evening. Just before they left, Pardek stopped Bea on the doorstep.

"Here," he pressed several gold coins into her hand, "Go buy yourself something pretty." With a smirk and a wink, he went back inside to ready himself for a day in the Senate.

Jamille couldn't help but laugh after he was gone. "I told you he's got a thing for you."

"Well, I'd rather him than your smug Captain Romulus. Besides," she smiled as she ran her fingers over the coins, "that was kind of...sweet."

"Girlfriend, don't tell me you like that sack of potatoes!" Jamille was about to flip.

"Even a sack of potatoes deserves some happiness," Bea pointed out. "He's a romantic sack of potatoes."

"Girl, we gotta get outta here and get back to the Federation. We don't have time to mess around with love-sick Romulans."

Bea sighed. "Show me the way, and I'll go along with it. Until then, I'm going to make the most of the situation. Who knows, maybe I'll end up like Rosetta. She seems happy enough."

"In your dreams, Cinderella," Jamille knocked on the side of Bea's head. "For all you know, Pardek is gonna use you, then he'll get tired of you, and send us back to the soup woman. So don't get too comfortable."

They were silent all the way to the marketplace. Jamille, for all her scolding Bea, began to realize that she had been thinking of that jerk Rekar the entire morning. He was rather handsome—okay, he was downright hot. _He knows it, too_, she groaned to herself. Then she stiffened her resolve. They needed to get out of there soon, before they both lost their heads—and their hearts.

* * *

Bochra, running errands for his commanding officer, strode into administrative complex surrounding the Hall of State. When he reached the Vice Proconsul's office, he handed a report to one of M'Ret's aides.

"Wait here," she said, before stepping into the adjoining room.

Presently M'Ret himself appeared. "Bochra! My favorite Centurion," he said, patting him on the shoulder. "Come have a seat while I compose a reply."

Bochra did as instructed, but mentally brushed off the compliment. Favorite centurion. Humph! Politicians like him probably said that to all of their subordinates.

"So," said M'Ret, without looking up from his work. "How's life in the Star Navy been treating you?"

"Well enough, sir." Inwardly, he was beginning to think this new promotion was nothing but a bunch of legwork; running here and there and everywhere. Since when did the duties of Centurion become those of a carrier pigeon?

"Good. Good…" Several minutes passed while M'Ret continued scanning through the report and making notes here and there.

Just then his secretary's voice came over the intercom. "Sir, your wife is here to see you."

The Vice Proconsul's eyes lit up and he smiled. "Send her in."

Lady Rosetta swept into the office and M'Ret rose to embrace her.

"My darling," he said. "What brings this vision of loveliness to my office today?"

"My love, you forgot your medallion this morning," she answered, with an amused sparkle in her dark brown eyes.

"I did?" he asked, patting his pockets and looking around like a clueless husband. "So I did. And I've got a meeting with the Praetor this afternoon, too! Whatever would I do without you, my dear?"

With a laugh, Rosetta produced the emblem from her purse and placed it around his neck. "Sometimes I think you forget things on purpose, just so I'll stop by and visit you."

"You know me too well," M'Ret replied, tapping her nose with his finger. "Shall we eat lunch together?"

"No, I must go home and rest," answered Rosetta.

When she reached the door, the Vice Proconsul asked, "What did the doctor say?"

Rosetta blushed, then smiled. "I'll tell you later," she said, and was gone.

After she left, M'Ret sighed contentedly. "Bochra, let me give you some advice: once you've gotten yourself well-established, do yourself a favor and find yourself a human wife."

Then the politician began telling what would turn out to be a very long story about why he chose to do so himself.

Here we go again, Bochra thought.

* * *

The women arrived at the marketplace. The amount that Pardek had given Bea turned out to be considerable, so both she and Jamille were able to purchase some nicer clothes. After that, they went to the produce section and began to fill their baskets with a day's worth of unfamiliar fruits, vegetables, and herbs. They were preparing to return to the mansion when a Romulan youth approached them.

"Jolan tru, ladies," he said.

"Are you talking to us?" asked Jamille, surprised.

"Yes. You are humans, right?"

"Yes, what about it?" asked Bea suspiciously.

"My name is D'Tan. I thought maybe you'd like to join our movement."

"Movement? What exactly are you talking about? Some kind of societal reform movement?" asked Jamille.

"No, it's about-" D'Tan stopped and checked to make sure no one was in earshot, then whispered, "It's about re-uniting the peoples of Romulus and Vulcan."

Bea and Jamille exchanged bored glances. "What's that got to do with us?"

"We need all the support we can garner," said D'Tan.

"Sorry, it's a great idea, but we're not really interested," said Bea.

But the boy wasn't ready to give up just yet. "But you came from that Federation vessel, didn't you? And Ambassador Spock said that the Federation is on our side-"

Jamille's eyes lit up. "Spock? Did you say Spock?"

"Shhh! Yes," whispered D'Tan. "He's the leader of our movement. Do you know him?"

"Know him? I'm related to him!" she declared.

"You are?" asked Bea in shock. "You never told me that!"

"Long story. Where is he?" asked Jamille.

D'Tan looked around again. "Meet me back here at sundown, and I'll lead you to our gathering place."

"We'll be here," Jamille assured him, and he went away.

"Are you sure about this?" asked Bea as they headed back to Pardek's. "It could be a trap."

"Or, it could be our best chance of escape," countered Jamille.

* * *

Meanwhile, Bochra went to lunch at the soup cafe. He ordered his usual and sat down. Then he noticed that Major Rekar was there.

"Did you enjoy yourself at the party, sir?" he asked. It was as close as he could get to a jab without being blatantly insubordinate. All the same, he thought it was beastly of Rekar to just show up at a gathering uninvited.

"Yes, I did, Centurion." He rose from his chair and shamelessly sat down at Bochra's table. "That's what I wanted to speak to you about." That was one of the problems with the Tal Shiar, they never seemed to need invitations to anything.

"You want to speak to _me_?"

"What do you know about Jamille Shane?"

Bochra groaned inwardly, but kept his outward expression neutral. "Other than she was the captain of that Federation ship, nothing." He took a spoonful of soup, knowing he wouldn't get a word in after that anyway.

"Say, why didn't you go home to your little slave for the midday meal?"

"I don't have time to go all the way home today. I've got a report to finish." He hoped Rekar would get the hint and leave him alone. And then there was the matter that he hadn't told Janette that he would be home for lunch. He didn't want to make unreasonable demands by dropping after he had already told her otherwise.

"I intend to have her for myself," Rekar announced, oblivious to what his subordinate was getting at.

That was obvious. "Then why don't you?" He ate another spoonful, determined to finish his lunch on time.

Rekar paused, searching for the right words. "First she needs a little...persuasion."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Your slave is her friend, is she not?"

"They were on the same ship, yes," said Bochra, "But that doesn't mean they're friends."

"Find out," he ordered.

Bochra swallowed his mouthful. "Yes, sir."

Rekar rose to leave. "And, enjoy your soup, Centurion. I hope you have time to finish your report. Jolan true."

He quickly drained his bowl and paid the bill. _As if I don't have enough to worry about..._

At the end of the day, Bochra dragged himself through the front door. As always, Janette was there to greet him. He made his way to the living room and collapsed onto the sofa. A cold ale appeared on the table in front of him.

"Thank you, Janette," he said, just before he sipped his drink. Normally, Romulans weren't in the habit of thanking their slaves merely for doing their job, but this particular evening, he was especially grateful to her. "You seem pleased," he remarked.

"I had the most wonderful dream about going to the beach on the Apnex Sea last night," she answered sweetly. Then her expression became serious, and she sat down at his feet. "But whatever is the matter, Centurion? Tell me, so that I can make it right."

Romulans weren't in the habit of discussion their personal problems with slaves, either. But he remembered M'Ret saying that Rosetta was the only person who had ever truly cared about him. Bochra realized that the same was true about Janette. What harm could it do to tell her?

"Everyone is always telling me their problems," he confessed, "I'm sick of it. It would appear that a few acquaintances of mine have taken an interest in some women, and they don't know how to tell them. Oh, Janette," he groaned, "love is a madness! Don't you think so?" He leaned back and covered his face with his hand.

"I'm not the person to ask," she sighed, "I'm among the mad."

Bochra looked over at her in surprise. "_You_, Janette?" How charming. His fatigue was replaced with curiosity. Perhaps he could help her out with her situation, as a reward for her faithful service to him. Since there weren't very many other humans around, this would be easy to figure out. He quickly compiled a mental list of all the prisoners from her ship. "With whom are you in love? Thomas? Robert?"

Janette shyly shook her head, denying every other human he suggested. "He's not on Romulus then, is he? I'm so sorry."

"Oh, yes he is," she smiled, "He's a Romulan."

_Will wonders never cease?_ But since this was the case, it might not be in his power to do anything for her. All the same, he would try. "Which house?"

She hesitated. "He's of this house, Centurion."

The revelation hit him like a ton of bricks. No wonder she was so loyal and faithful to him. How could he have been so blind? The other question, of course was, how did he feel about it? It didn't take much soul-searching for him to discover that he rather liked the idea. Everything about her pleased him: her alluring looks, her elegant mannerisms, her thoughtful personality—the list went on. What's more, if others could get away with taking human women for their wives, so could he.

"What if I told you we were going to the beach at the Apnex Sea this evening?"

Her pretty eyes lit up. "Oh! I would swoon with happiness!"

Bochra found that enjoyed pleasing her immensely. It made him smile in spite of himself. Yes, he had made a good decision. "Then go and ready yourself, my dear. But you haven't swooned yet," he teased.

Janette rose to her feet and made for her chambers. "I haven't the time!" She nearly collided into a column, but thankfully caught herself in time.

Bochra leaned back and sipped his ale while he waited.

* * *

AN: Dissidents wanted. Help us bridge the gap between Vulcan and Romulus. Your planet needs you! Unification meetings are held in the catacombs every Tuesday at sundown. Great acoustics. Make your voice heard! Must be 18 or older. No benefits provided. See Ambassador Spock to apply.


	5. Chapter 5

That night, once D'Tan showed up at the Unification meeting with Bea and Jamille, there was a bit of a problem...

"D'Tan, what were you thinking?" scolded the boy's mother.

"Because they're human you just automatically assume that they're trustworthy?" chided his father.

"You could have put us all in danger!" pointed out another, and everyone else in the caves began to grumble.

"Calm yourselves. There is no need for anxiety," said an authoritative voice, and Ambassador Spock emerged from the crowd. "I can vouch for my kinswoman."

"Spock!" cried Jamille, and she ran up and enveloped him in a friendly hug. "It's so good to see you!"

Spock seemed a little disconcerted by this at first, but then he half-grinned and patted her on the back. "It is good to see you as well, young one. Perhaps when the meeting is over, you will tell me how you and your friend ended up on Romulus of all places?"

The meeting began. For two hours, Ambassador Spock spoke eloquently and answered questions about the planet Vulcan and his people's concepts. Then D'Tan requested another story about their Vulcan ancestors and everyone groaned, because they knew they'd be there for two more hours.

Beatrice, being less enthusiastic than Jamille, and also very tired from having worked all day in the kitchen, began to nod off.

Jamille nudged her with her elbow and whispered, "Wake up!"

"Huh? Oh yeah. Down with the Romulans!" she rallied, then she turned three shades of red when everyone scowled at her. "Oops! Sorry."

Spock blinked, then said, "Please try not to be disruptive, Miss Wylder."

"You'll have to excuse my friend," said Jamille. "She's very tired, and evidently she talks in her sleep," she added, with a scolding glance at Bea.

"I understand," Spock nodded. "I have been told on various occasions that I am 'long-winded,' but in tales like these, it is important to provide context. And remember, many of these people have risked much to be here."

"Sorry," Bea apologized again, then pulled her hood over her head retreated toward the back of the cave.

When the meeting was finally over, Jamille and Bea quickly told the Ambassador their story. Spock listened intently with his hands clasped behind his back. Once the narrative was over, he lifted an eyebrow and said, "Remarkable, but not unprecedented."

"Do you think you can help us get out of here somehow?" asked Jamille.

"No. It would be much too dangerous to attempt an escape at present."

"But how were you planning to leave?" asked Beatrice.

"I was not," answered Spock. "I am going to remain here as long as there is interest in bridging the gap between Vulcan and Romulus. This may be difficult for you to hear, but you are Starfleet officers, and you must understand that it is in everyone's best interest for this movement to gain traction. Therefore, I ask you to be resilient and make the most of your situations for the present."

"You can count on me," said Jamille with bright smile.

"Of that I am certain," Spock half-grinned again. "And I, in turn, will keep an eye out for possibilities for your escape."

The girls promised to come as often as they could, then hurried away back to the mansion, where they managed to scale the fence and get back to their quarters unobserved-or so they thought.

* * *

The next Unification meeting carried on in much the same way as the first. But this time the girls, still rather embarrassed after Bea's outburst the previous night, remained toward the back of the assembly and kept their heads covered.

As before, Ambassador Spock rambled on about Vulcan, Romulus and everything in between. Just when Bea was beginning to doze off again, a most unexpected person arrived fashionably late.

"Sorry I'm late," he said.

Bea blinked and rubbed her eyes three times. Did her eyes deceive her, or was that…

"Is that Pardek?" whispered Jamille in complete shock.

"Welcome, friend Pardek," Spock nodded in greeting. "You do not have to apologize."

"I've brought some supplies," said Pardek. He opened a sizeable case and took out several lamps. "Why don't we shed a little light on the subject, eh?"

He also brought portable heaters and cushions to sit on. The crowd babbled in appreciation.

Spock thanked his friend, then continued his lecture.

"So Fatty Lumpkins is part of the Unification Movement?" whispered Jamille, flabbergasted. "Who would've thought?"

"Maybe he's not so bad after all," Beatrice replied thoughtfully.

"Maybe not, but either way, I don't think it's a good idea for him to find out that we're here," said Jamille, and she wrapped her veil more closely around herself.

Bea did the same and giggled. Pardek wasn't a sack of potatoes, he was a sweet potato.

* * *

Rekar was at his desk, bogged down in paperwork. But his mind was elsewhere. He was instead racking his brains trying to think how to make Jamille Shane his bride. Yes, his bride! No other woman had captivated him so. He simply couldn't settle with merely having his way and turning her back over to Pardek. No, she had to truly belong to him.

He leaned back in his chair and smiled as he remembered their encounter in the kitchen, when she asked him if he was looking for a problem. Oh, yes, he had indeed found a problem, a delightful problem.

That she was a human did not deter him. In fact, it had at first led him to believe that the task of winning her affections would be easy.

"That's where I went wrong," he grumbled to himself. But the beginnings of his pity party were thankfully interrupted when his communicator beeped. The sound startled him, and he fell backwards in his chair. "Who is it?" he growled, as he got to his knees.

"Uh...it's Jasper, sir." _Ah, the snitch._

Rekar had been hoping he would call soon, but he didn't want to let it on. "Jasper? Jasper, you idiot! How dare you call my office! How did you get this number?"

"_But, but they're part of the dissidents! They went to the meeting last night!"_

Perfect! This was just what he was waiting to hear. "Hang the dissidents! It'll be forgotten tomorrow. I want _real_ information, Jasper! Not this hogwash fit only for the tabloids! Call me when you have something useful—and don't ever contact me at my office again!" Jasper stuttered some more, then terminated the link.

Finally, an opportunity had presented itself. He stretched out on the floor and stared blissfully at the ceiling. Soon, Jamille would be his. It was time to pay ol' Senator Pardek another visit.

* * *

AN: The next chapter will be posted Tuesday. Hope everyone has a great Labor Day weekend!


	6. Chapter 6

That same afternoon, when Bea had finished her kitchen duties (until supper time, that is), she did a little exploring around the house.

After investigating several corners of the house, including the library and the ballroom, she found the conservatory and took an instant liking to it. It was a most delightful room that had glass walls and a domed ceiling that was built high enough to accommodate a few trimmed trees. There was a multitude of hanging and potted plants, and even a few small fountains.

Bea found a comfortable, cushioned bench and sat back to take in the soothing ambiance of the room.

"I thought I might find you here."

Bea stood up, startled by the voice of her master.

"No, please, sit down. I didn't mean to disturb you," he said.

Bea sat back down. She was now feeling a bit uncomfortable.

Pardek stood nearby, and after silently admiring the room for a few moments, he said, "I have a bit of a dilemma, Beatrice. Perhaps you could help me solve it."

She said nothing, so he continued. "An old friend of mine asked me for some advice the other day. He confided to me that he was deeply in love with a lady friend of his, but he is unsure what to do about it."

"What makes him unsure?"

"Well, you see, they are so very different from one another, from different worlds, so to speak. She's very young and pretty, like a spring flower in bloom, and my friend is far from handsome, and… well, you could say he's in the winter of his life."

Bea understood perfectly what was going on. Pardek was speaking of himself and his feelings for her.

"One the one hand, if he says nothing, they can continue as they are, and he can admire her from a distance. But on the other hand, if he speaks he risks receiving a negative answer, and he's not willing to endure that." Pardek turned to look her directly in the eyes and asked earnestly, "What would you say to a fellow in his situation?"

"I would say that he should make his sentiments known to the lady," answered Beatrice thoughtfully.

"Even though she is so much younger than he?" asked Pardek.

"In my opinion, age is just a number," replied Bea. "What truly matters is found in the heart."

"That is exactly what I think," said Pardek with a smile. This was just the encouragement that he needed! "Very well then, I shall-"

Just then there was a series of loud noises, which turned out to be a person hammering a nearby door with his fists.

_"Open up! In the name of the Tal Shiar!"_ It was Rekar's voice.

"Oh, no!" Bea put her hand over her mouth.

Pardek put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her directly in the eye. "You don't have to fear. No harm will come to you, my Bea. I will make sure of that."

Bea felt herself relax. Pardek was a senator after all, and that had to count for something. She decided to trust him. "Okay."

"Wait here. I'll be back soon." He went to go answer the door. Bea could see the front door from where she was sitting through the window. Just as Pardek reached the foyer, Rekar kicked the door down. It hit the floor with a loud crash.

"I was about to open it," Pardek said with a shrug. "What do you want, Commander?"

Rekar held his chin high. "One of your servants is a dissident spy. I've come to arrest her."

"But that's preposterous, Commander," Pardek alleged. Given that he hadn't actually seen Bea or Jamille at the meetings yet, he was likely telling the truth, as he understood it.

Rekar walked past him. Bea's heart leaped up to her throat when he stepped out into the courtyard. She knew she was done for. So much for finding true love in the darkest places!

"Where is Jamille?" he demanded.

"Uh..."

"Just what do you want, Captain Romulus?" Jamille appeared in the doorway with her arms crossed. "Who said you could barge in here—again, uninvited? And you left the door open, you pig! I _know_ your mamma didn't raise you in a barn."

The Romulan smirked at the sight of her. "Why, I'm looking for spies such as yourself. You're under arrest." With a snap of his fingers, she was seized by his goons.

"No, no!" she screamed.

Bea grabbed at Pardek's robe. "Please _do _something," she whispered. Tears were already forming in her eyes.

"Now see here, Commander," said Pardek. "You can't take my servant without proof of these absurd accusations."

Rekar whipped out a PADD. "But I have all the proof necessary, Senator. She is a known relative of Ambassador Spock, who, as you'll no doubt recall, is the leader of the dissidents." He smiled triumphantly.

Pardek read the PADD and hung his head. "I'm sorry, my dear. He is correct. There's nothing I can do."

"Of course there isn't." He let out a villainous laugh.

"You just wait!" Jamille struggled against the two agents dragging her away. "Spock's gonna whup your #%^&—you and your flying monkeys!"

"Yes, yes." Rekar stepped over the fallen door. "Jolan tru, Senator."

Bea sobbed into her apron. "She's my best friend. What's going to happen to her?"

"Now, now, my dear," Pardek rubbed her back, "We'll think of something. Besides, I don't think we have to worry about her safety. Judging from the way Rekar looks at her, I'll wager she has nothing to fear."

* * *

Jamille looked at the structure before her in puzzlement. It didn't look much like a Tal Shiar dungeon, more like… a posh apartment? "What is this place? I thought you were taking me to jail!"

"Do you _want_ to go to jail?" asked Rekar with a sarcastic glance as he typed a code into the door's keypad.

"No-"

"-Then stop gawking and go inside, Earth woman," ordered the Major.

Jamille shrugged and complied.

The apartment was a little messy, but it was well equipped with the most contemporary furniture she'd yet seen on Romulus.

"This way," said Captain Romulus, and Jamille followed him to a dining area.

Her breath caught in her throat when he produced a knife from one of the drawers, but shortly after that he sat down at the table and grabbed a few pieces of fruit from the bowl in the center.

Jamille had to stifle a laugh then, because Rekar was such a big fellow that it looked like he was sitting at the kids' table.

"Now then," he said as he began to slice the fruit, which most resembled an assortment of pears and plums. "Tell me, what can you do? Can you cook?"

Jamille frowned and crossed her arms. "Mmm-hmmm. But I won't."

Rekar popped a slice into his mouth. "Can you clean?"

"Mmm-hmm. But I won't," she repeated stubbornly.

Commander Rekar stopped chewing for a moment and grinned. "Can you eat?" he asked, gesturing toward the fruit.

It had been several hours since she'd eaten, and the fruit really did look quite inviting. "I suppose so…"

Just as she reached for a plum, Rekar smacked her hand away. "But you won't!"

Jamille's eyes flashed and he grinned again.

"Fetch me my slippers," the Romulan commanded flippantly.

"Get them yourself," she snapped, turning away from him.

"Perhaps you do not understand the terms of your being here," said Rekar. "If you do not obey my commands, well… I may change my mind about taking you to jail."

The effect was instantaneous: the little woman began to search for the slippers. Surprised and more than a little disappointed that the threat seemed to work, Rekar quirked an eyebrow and popped another slice of fruit into his mouth. But before he had time to congratulate himself, two grey fuzzy objects collided with his head!

"There are your slippers! And may you never have a day's luck with them!"

Rekar stood up from the table to better tower over her. "You have a lot of nerve speaking to me like that, Earth woman. A Romulan female would never dare to defy the Tal Shiar, in fear of never being seen or heard of again."

"Well, I'm not a Romulan female, am I?"

That's more like it, Rekar thought, but before he could reply, his communicator went off. He took the device out of his pocket and checked the message. It was Chairman Koval, requesting him to report to his office immediately.

Blast! Just when things were getting interesting. "I must report to work now, so I'll have to deal with you later. Until then, I suggest you find a way to make yourself useful."

The formidable fiend took a few steps toward the door, where he paused to add, "Oh, and one more thing. If you're wise, you won't even think about trying to escape. You're on the Tal Shiar's wanted list, and if any of my fellow officers should find you outside, I won't stop them from following their orders."

After the door closed, Jamille went to the window and laughed as she watched him trudge off down the street. "You don't scare me, Captain Romulus. I think your bark is worse than your bite!"

Then she grabbed a hooded cloak from one of the closets, threw it over her shoulders, typed in the same code she observed him enter a few moments before, and skipped off down the street in the opposite direction.

* * *

AN: There are several more chapters to go, but the remaining material has not yet been typed, so from this point forward there will be a longer wait between postings.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you readers, for all the hilarious reviews! In fact, some of the ideas were so funny that I just had to include them in the chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

That night, Rekar decided to stop at the florist shop on his way home. Afterall, it wouldn't do to be too harsh with the little woman; by now she was probably crying in a corner.

Of course her name wasn't really on any Tal Shiar wanted list (unless he counted his own personal list); he just told her that so she wouldn't try anything foolish. Now that she understood who was in charge of the situation, it was time to acquaint her with his more charming side.

Stepping into the shop, he quickly scanned the variety of botanical offerings until he found the perfect item: a bouquet of bright yellow, white and light pink blooms, similar in form to tulips and daffodils. Unlike some of the other flowers, which he considered too wispy and feeble, these were crisp and vibrant, the very thing.

The purchase done, Rekar checked his reflection in the florist shop window. Yes, he was a handsome devil, the Major thought with a smile, then marched briskly all the way home. When he reached the door, he typed in the access code and chuckled to himself as he imagined the look of surprise on her face.

But the door didn't open. In his haste, he figured he must have mistyped a key or two, so he entered the code again.

_Invalid code._

"What the-? She changed the code?" He tried one more time, and when the door didn't open he punched the keypad. "She changed the code!"

"Earth woman! Open this door!" he commanded over the intercom. No response. "Earth woman!"

_"There's no one here by the name of 'Earth woman,'" _came the reply.

So that's what this was about. But he still had one card up his sleeve. Rekar took out his Tal Shiar badge and swiped it at the keypad. That should override whatever code she put in. But it didn't. "What?!"

Why that clever little… "Alright… Jamille," he said with a smirk, "You've made your point. Now open this door. At once!"

_"Hmmm…Nope. Sorry, can't do that."_

"Why not?" he demanded.

_"Oh, I don't know. I guess I'm too much of an inferior creature to figure it out."_

"You can't stay in there forever!"

_"Yes I can."_

Rekar backed up a few paces and looked at the windows. One of the windows on the second floor was open, but it was too high for him to reach, and there was nothing nearby for him to climb to it.

_"I guess I'll just have to eat all this wonderful shrimp curry all by myself," _she sighed.

"Stubborn woman," he muttered. Fine. He could be stubborn too! "She'll have to come out some time," he told himself. Until then, he would wait her out, even if it meant spending a night on the sidewalk.

But the elements were against him. There was a cool breeze, which brought with it a most appetizing aroma. Shrimp curry… must be an Earth dish.

Then it started to rain. So what? He was a soldier, and he'd trained for far worse than this! Rekar tossed the flowers away and crossed his arms to stave off the chill that came over him as his uniform soaked up the rain.

Half an hour passed and the night grew colder. Rekar heard a faint rumble of thunder off in the distance, followed by one from his stomach. He glanced up at the window again. Jamille was seated comfortably in an armchair, eating. He had no idea what shrimp curry was, but it smelled quite delicious. He'd much rather be up there eating with her than out here drenched by the freezing rain. Was it really worth it just to prove who was more obstinate?

Another half hour passed, and he admitted to himself that she had bested him. But could he bring himself to acknowledge it to her?

While he weighed this question in his mind, he remembered that Koval had assigned him to conduct some important training tomorrow, and he would be ill prepared to do so if he spent the night out here under these conditions. Yes! It was his duty to get adequate nourishment and rest.

Rekar sloshed over to the intercom. "Alright… Jamille." He was still getting used to saying it out loud. "You've won this round."

_"What was that? My inferior ears didn't catch that last part."_

"I said you've won this round. If you open the door, I will never use that word in reference to you again."

_"Not good enough,"_ she answered.

Rekar frowned. What more did she want? He hastily re-collected the flowers and was relieved to see that they were not damaged. "I've brought flowers," he ventured, grimacing at how pathetic he sounded.

Out of his hearing, Jamille laughed. He still had a lot to learn, but it was a start, at least. "Alright, Captain Romulus. You can come in."

* * *

After Jamille was arrested, things were looking more dismal than ever for Bea. Without her friend to talk to she felt isolated, depressed. For the next three days she completed her duties listlessly and speaking to no one, not even Pardek. He seemed to know that she needed space to cope and left her alone, which in turn increased her respect for him.

One cloudy morning, feeling the need for a change of scenery, Bea took her grocery basket and headed off to the produce stand.

Shopping failed to lift her spirits, however, and she was feeling so gloomy that she didn't pay much mind to her surroundings. Consequently, she bumped into a passerby and dropped her basket.

"Oh my!" Bea knelt down and reached for her items, some of which were rolling in various directions.

"I beg you pardon, Miss! Allow me," said the man she'd bumped into, and after he finished replacing the items in the basket, he narrowed his eyes and gave her a bewildered look. "Oh, it's you! I saw you the other night, at Pardek's dinner party."

He had a nicely squared jaw, navy blue eyes, and wore a suit of the same color. If it weren't for the conceited smile on his face, Bea would have almost thought him rather handsome. She nodded in acknowledgment and hastily went on her way.

"What's this? Aren't you going to thank me?" he called after her. "Or don't humans practice courtesy?"

She stopped and said, "Thank you, Mr…?"

"Senator Letant, at your service," he supplied, with a gallant bow.

As Beatrice had recently become painfully aware, it wasn't like most Romulans to act thus toward one of her station, and she suspected that she was being mocked. Nevertheless, she returned the gesture.

"Pleased to meet you," she curtseyed. "Now if you'll excuse me-"

"I've heard it on good authority that Pardek means to make you his consort. Is this true?"

Bea's jaw dropped in astonishment. What nerve!

"Do you plan to accept him?" asked Letant.

"That's none of your business!" she retorted.

"I can understand his point of view," continued Letant with an abominable grin, "but I fail to see what an attractive young lady such as yourself would want with a man who has one foot in the grave."

"Don't talk about Pardek that way!" Bea snapped.

"Yeah! Don't talk about Pardek that way," echoed D'Tan, appearing out of nowhere. But neither acknowledged him.

"Pardek might be old, but at least he has a heart, and he's not a conceited little twerp like some of his peers!" Bea shouted, surprising herself as much as Letant.

The senator blinked. "You actually care for the old rascal, don't you? My apologies." On that note, he bowed again and left.

As soon as he was out of earshot, D'Tan asked, "Where have you been? I haven't seen you or Captain Shane at the meetings these last few days."

"I wasn't able to make it," she answered vaguely. Since Jamille's arrest, she felt that it was too risky to keep attending the Unification gatherings. They were boring, and at any rate she never had much faith that Spock would be able to help them get back home.

"I've got some important news for you!" whispered D'Tan. "We've got some new recruits, more Starfleet Officers!"

Now that got Bea's attention. "What did you say?"

D'Tan told her that "somebody named Captain Picard" had showed up to find Ambassador Spock. "They asked him to go back with them to Federation space, but Mr. Spock wants to stay. But he told me to tell you that this might be your best chance of escape, so you and Captain Shane need to keep coming to the meetings every night, and be ready to go at a moment's notice!"

"I'm afraid it might be too late for my friend," Bea sighed sadly.

"Why?"

"Captain Shane has been-"

"-Is right here!" said Jamille, stepping and throwing back her hood with a broad smile.

"Jamille! What are you doing here?"

"Buying groceries, just like you. Duh!" she answered.

"But… I thought I'd never see you again after Captain Romulus hauled you off to jail!" cried Bea, then she ran up and hugged her friend as though she'd just come back from the dead.

"Jail?" repeated D'Tan. "You were arrested?"

"What happened?" asked Bea.

"What happened was that Captain Romulus knows a fine woman when he sees one," said Jamille with a semi-boastful expression. "He just wanted an excuse to bring me home. But there's no way in heck I'd stoop to his level, no matter how many different ways he asks. He's a hot mess."

"Who's Captain Romulus? Does he know about the meetings?" D'Tan panicked.

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this in front of little ears," whispered Bea with a wry look.

"You're right," said D'Tan, looking around cautiously. "Someone might overhear us."

Jamille rolled her eyes. "Listen, Danny-"

"D'Tan," the youth corrected her.

"Can I call you Danny?"

The Romulan urchin shrugged. "I suppose so-"

"-Good. I need you to deliver a message to Ambassador Spock. Can you do that?" asked Jamille.

The boy's eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly.

"Tell him I said grey looks good on him, and give him this." She rummaged through her shopping basket and took out a bundle of green foliage. "He'll know what it means."

After D'Tan scurried away to complete his "mission," the human females burst into laughter. It was the best laugh they'd had since they got there.

"That boy is so special," chuckled Jamille.

"Yeah, that was a good one," said Bea, trying to catch her breath. "Now tell me everything!"

"I will, but obviously this really isn't a very good place to talk." Threading her arm through her friend's, they took the street that headed back toward Pardek's mansion.

A few paces away, a flitter halted beside them and a familiar voice called to them. "Ladies! How nice to see you again! Would you care to join us for some tea?"

Through the window they could see Lady Rosetta, accompanied by another human. "Janette!"

* * *

AN: It seems everybody and their brother goes to the marketplace!


	8. Chapter 8

Once they arrived at Rosetta's place, Bea quickly repeated to the others what D'Tan had told her.

"Alright! I told you Spock would come through, didn't I?" said Jamille, happily giving Bea's shoulder a little shove.

"You are involved in the dissident movement?" asked Rosetta with some alarm.

"Yes!" answered Jamille, then Bea added, "Sort of. Not exactly."

"What's the dissident movement?" asked Janette.

After the others explained the situation to her, Rosetta leaned forward and whispered, "M'Ret and I are sympathizers. We are not directly involved yet, in fact we've done little more than speak about it among ourselves, but-"

"You should come with us!" suggested Jamille.

"To the meetings?" asked Rosetta.

"No! To escape! Didn't you hear what Bea just said? This is our best chance to get off this rock!"

Rosetta blinked. "But… I have no desire to leave Romulus."

All turned to look at her and said, "What?"

"Why would you want to stay here when this place is so hostile?" asked Bea, wondering whether it was for the same reasons that she had come to harbor within herself.

"Well, you see… I may be human, but Romulus is the only home I've ever known. I love this planet and my husband more than anything. Our society is far from perfect, but as you've seen for yourself, it is beginning to change, and I believe we can do more good here, from the inside, than we could by running away." Rosetta smiled. "And I have another reason to stay: we are expecting our first child."

There was a collective, "Awww!" then everyone hugged and congratulated her.

Janette took a deep breath, then announced, "I'm staying too."

Another group gasp.

"I'm in love with Bochra. He's a sweetheart, and he needs me."

Jamille wanted to slap her. "Girl, did you take stupid pills or something? You're his slave!"

"He started on the paperwork to free me," she countered.

"_Started?_ How long does it take to fill out a form?"

Janette shrugged. "He's got a lot on his mind, the cutie. It'll take him time to adjust to his new job." She sighed and clasped her hands together, "He looks just like a wood elf."

"Hello? Romulus to Janette: he's using you." Bea knocked on her head. "When he gets tired of you, he'll brush you aside and turn you over like a bedspread. You want to see those freedom papers _before_ you commit to him. Not to mention a ring on your finger," she added, half to herself.

"Oh no, Bea, I'm sure you're wrong. Bochra's going to marry me." She nodded her head firmly. "I understand why you and Jamille want to go, but I'm staying."

Jamille rolled her eyes. "C'mon Bea, there's no reasoning with her. She wants that Romulan for her man and nothing we say is going to change her mind." She stood up. "We'd better get going or we'll be late for the meeting. Thanks for the tea and crumpets, Rosetta."

"Oh, you're quite welcome," said Rosetta, "Good luck with your endeavors. I hope you'll visit again before you leave."

"You can count on it." Jamille shook her hand and charged out the door to the bustling streets. Bea followed her, though in her heart she was beginning to feel very confused and torn.

* * *

Meanwhile, Pardek was in his office, and once more at a loss. Tomorrow was the beginning of the fall festival, and he was planning to propose to Beatrice first thing in the morning. He was fairly certain that she would say yes, but just to be sure he also wanted to give her some sort of gift, something that might help to tip the scale in his favor.

But the problem was, he had no clue what she might like. Flowers, or fruit candies maybe? Maybe dinner at a fine restaurant? No, that wasn't good enough, or_ expensive_ enough. He wanted something that would make her feel obligated to say yes. A beach house? No, the weather was about to turn cold.

Jewelry! That was a timeless gift. Now what type? A bracelet, a pair of earrings? All of the above, a whole set. Yes, that was the safest bet. But what kind of stones would she like?

"I know, I'll ask Bochra! His advice had proven to be reliable before." The portly senator dialed up the Centurion's house, only to be dismayed when his call was answered by an automated message.

"Fiddlesticks!" Pardek sighed irritably and looked out the window, wishing he'd paid more attention to all that frilly stuff he'd skimmed over in literature class 120 years ago. "Who am I going to ask now?"

Maybe one of his fellow senators could help him? Not likely. He couldn't ask Letant -he'd only get laughed at. He couldn't ask Vreenak, either. He turned up his nose at anything and everything. Tal'Aura was a notoriously unsympathetic woman…

Just then the clock struck noon, reminding Pardek that it was time for lunch. "I know! I'll ask the soup woman!"

* * *

The soup woman was just setting the flower vase onto Pardek's table when the portly Senator sauntered into the café, looking more jovial than usual.

"Jolan tru," he greeted.

"Jolan tru, sir," she returned with a bow. "Your table is prepared, and we are serving root vegetable stew today."

One of her new employees set his tray on the table as she spoke.

"Good, good," said Pardek, taking his usual seat. After taking a deep whiff of the stew before him, he smiled broadly and bid the proprietor to, "Close the shop."

The soup woman turned back and looked at him quizzically. "Close the shop? Did I hear you say 'close the shop,' sir?"

"Yes." Pardek tucked the napkin into his collar.

Well, this was all rather odd, she thought, putting up the "closed" sign with a lot of ambivalence. The cook had already filled a dozen or so bowls, and at present there were only two customers besides Pardek. She was fond of Senator Pardek, always had been. He was a regular, agreeable, generous customer. But if they closed now they'd have to count the day as a loss. Unless he was planning to compensate them?

"May I ask why, sir?" she ventured.

"After lunch, I have something very special planned that I will need your opinion for," explained the Senator between mouthfuls of bread and soup. "I'm taking you with me to the jewelry shop," he added more quietly, with a wink.

In that moment, the soup woman's world turned upside down.

* * *

The soup woman felt very grand indeed promenading into Rateg's most fashionable jewelry boutique on the arm of Senator Pardek! It seemed that the politician was in the humor to spend some serious money- for her! How romantic! She'd never had any inkling of his attachment before. And the best part was that this was just the beginning of wealth and affluence! As Pardek's spouse, there'd be no more days filled with kitchen grease, dirty dishes, and grubby customers for her!

"Senator Pardek," one of the attendants recognized him, a very thin, balding man with a severely wrinkled face. "How may I be of assistance, sir?"

"I would like to see your ten most expensive collections for ladies," answered Pardek with a smiling glance down at his companion.

When the selections were laid out before her, she could only gaze in wonder. "Oh elements," she whispered, bringing her hands to her face.

"Choose one," Pardek directed.

The soup woman looked over the extraordinary sets one by one. There were pearls, opals, diamonds, emeralds, and rubies... gems of every shape and color, set in gold, silver, platinum, and some other precious metals that she couldn't even name.

Finally, after much deliberation, the soup woman selected a gorgeous set of glistening white and rose-colored diamonds, set in both yellow and white gold. "This one. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she sighed.

"Perfect! I'm sure Beatrice will love it," beamed Pardek.

And then the soup woman's head fell out of the clouds.

* * *

AN: LOL! If you readers like this, be sure to check out Jamille Shane and BewilderedFemale's collaboration, "Chasing Waves."


	9. Chapter 9

Rekar sat in a dark, inconspicuous corner of the soup kitchen, waiting for the snitch's report. As he sat there, the proprietor returned, hanging her head as she went back to her work. Under normal circumstances, he would have been curious as to what was ailing her. But at the moment, he was desperate. Commander Sela had been hounding him all week about the whereabouts of the dissidents, and in particular Ambassador Spock.

As the agent in charge of the Krocton Segment (and Senator Vreenak would some day pay for giving him that forsaken assignment!), it was his responsibility to keep tabs on everything that went on. At least, that was how it looked on paper. The reality of the situation was an entirely different matter. Sela, however, being part of the regular military, had no sense of how the intelligence gathering side of the Empire worked. What's more, Rekar got the distinct impression from the start that she was used to getting her way all the time.

_Not unlike my Jamille_, he thought wistfully.

There was only one thing he cared about as he sulked in that corner: Jamille was gone. He had to find her. Once he did, he would make her his wife, and that would be the end of it. There would be no more of this flitting around business.

Finally, Jasper meandered in and found his way over to the table. He plopped down into the chair next to the major.

"You're late," he snarled.

"Sorry Rekar, but my mother-"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to use my name in public?" He looked around and pulled the cloak farther over his face.

Jasper snickered. He after all, never worried about his keeping cover. "Rekar!" he cried, "We've got Rekar here!" Apparently used to Jasper's antics, none of the other customers bothered to look up from their bowls. "See? Nobody cares. Nice cloak. What are you trying to look like, a Tal Shiar agent?"

Rekar sneered. Jasper was obviously a dunderhead, descended from a long line of dunderheads. "I _am_ a Tal Shiar agent, you oaf! Just tell me what you know and get lost."

"Okay, okay, no need to get excited...She's over there." He pointed to the other side of the room, where Jamille was sitting with her friend, a Romulan boy and—Spock! Rekar couldn't believe his good fortune. It was all too easy, not that he was complaining. He keyed in a hasty message to Sela.

* * *

Meanwhile, Jamille and Bea twiddled their fingers as D'Tan told Spock everything there was to know about his childhood education, plus a whole lot more. The two humans were on the verge of falling asleep when one of the regulars from the meetings whispered a message to Spock.

"Your Federation friends have returned. They must see you immediately. I've told Pardek, and he'll meet you at the cave."

They didn't waste any time, but rushed off to rendezvous with their fellow collaborators. In the cave, Pardek, Captain Picard, and Data were waiting for them, just as they promised. The _Enterprise_ officers had already removed their disguises.

"The only communication that was sent were the numbers one-four-zero-zero," Picard explained.

"What does it mean?" Pardek asked.

Spock stepped into the conversation. "It means that the Proconsul has apparently been attempting to deceive me. For what purpose I cannot say yet. But his conversations with me have obviously been part of a greater plan involving the stolen Vulcan ship."

"How do you know that, Ambassador?" asked Data.

"The time the Proconsul has set for the subspace announcement of our peace initiative is fourteen hundred hours tomorrow. One four zero zero."

Pardek shrugged. "But why would they need a Vulcan ship-?"

"That will become clear very shortly!" came an evil, barely feminine voice. They whirled around to see the infamous Commander Sela standing in the doorway. More Romulan guards rushed in, surrounding everyone. There was no hope of escape. They were trapped.

Sela held her head up in triumph. "Captain Picard, welcome to Romulus. I trust you've enjoyed your visit." She eyed Data from head to foot. "And this is the android I have come to respect in battle."

"How could they know of this location? Someone has betrayed us!" Pardek threw his hands up in anguish.

But the venerable ambassador only nodded calmly. "Yes. You did."

Pardek was aghast. "Spock, we've been friends for eighty years!"

"It is the only logical conclusion," the Vulcan insisted. "_You _invited me to Romulus. _You _arranged the meeting with Proconsul Neral. And _you_ knew that Picard and Data had returned to the surface with new information."

Pardek tried to maintain an innocent front, but Sela decided it was no longer worth the bother. She smiled coldly. "The great Spock. Very well. Senator Pardek, your service to the Romulan people is noted and appreciated. Enjoy your retirement."

The rotund senator threw up his hands and ended the act. He glanced at Spock without any trace of apology. "Nothing personal, my old friend. Jolan tru."

"Why you sneaky, son of a-" Jamille lunged toward Pardek, but was held back by Sela's goons before she got anywhere near him.

Sela let out a wicked laugh. "Take her back to the dungeon. Rekar will be expecting her." Her smile faded when she turned to Spock once more. "Do not be distressed. Your dream of reunification is not dead. It will only take a slightly different form...the Romulan conquest of Vulcan."

She then left with Spock, Picard, and Data trailing behind. They were, after all, the only ones she was interested in. The remaining guards began to round up the others.

"Wait!" Pardek cried, "You can't arrest Bea. She's my fiancée."

Bea narrowed her eyes in fury. "Your _what_? Like heck I am, you sack of potatoes!"

"But Bea, my cupcake. Why ever are you angry at me?" His face filled with sadness, mixed with bewilderment.

"You betrayed my friends, and you betrayed me!" She emphasized her displeasure with a hard slap across his face, then stormed off.

"Bea! Come back! I quit my job! Marry me, and I'll save you from the fate of these other dissidents!"

But she didn't listen. The guards moved to go after her, but he waved them away. They dragged off Jamille and D'Tan instead.

"Ugh! I think I'd rather go to jail myself," Jamille remarked.

D'Tan was in a full panic. "I can't believe Pardek betrayed us! And just when Bea was about to marry him!"

"Shut up already!" Jamille snapped, at her wits end with the urchin who always seemed to say the wrong thing at the most inopportune time possible. "Whose kid are you anyway?"

Pardek didn't stay around for the boy's answer. He hurried after Bea, as fast as he could—which let's face it, wasn't very fast. Luckily for him, she had no idea where she was going, so distraught was she. He soon found her wandering around the city zoo.

"Bea! There you are. I was so worried about you."

She was sitting on a bench staring in the direction of the sunset. Her arms were crossed, and tears streamed down her face. "You betrayed me!" she repeated.

"I had no idea you were part of the dissidents. Guess I missed a few meetings. Please forgive me."

"Why should I?"

"Because I quit my job to be with you. I've retired. I'm no longer a senator."

Bea slowly turned to face him. "Really? You left your job...for me?"

"Of course, how could I do anything else." Tenderly, he wiped her cheeks with his sleeve.

She blinked. "You really do love me, don't you?"

"Yes," he insisted. "Now will you marry me?" He held out a gorgeous ring, glistening with white and rose-colored diamonds, set in a lovely combination of white and yellow gold.

Bea tore her gaze away from the captivating band, and searched his round face. Finally, she realized how much he adored her. He wasn't exactly a prince charming, but he would be good to her. If she played her cards right, he could probably get her friends out of the slammer, too.

"Yes, Pardek," she said formally, "I will accept you."

* * *

Next chapter will be ready soon!


	10. Chapter 10

Jamille sat in the shadows of the interrogation room, steeling herself for whatever awful things might happen next.

Just as Sela had foretold, Rekar was waiting at the prison. He switched off the cameras and other recording devices before entering the room.

"Stubborn as always," he pretended to scoff. "Didn't I warn you to stop associating with that riff-raff?"

Jamille rolled her eyes. "They're not riff-raff, Rekar. They're decent people."

"And see where they led you," said the major, pacing the room.

"They just want to make their home a better place, and that shouldn't be a crime."

"Then they should have found a legal way to promote their ideas, instead of sneaking around in caves and plotting revolts." Rekar stopped pacing. "I am charged with upholding the law in this Segment. They broke the law, and they will pay the price. I care not what happens to _them_. Just give me your solemn promise that you will no longer be involved with this movement, and then we can go home."

Jamille stared at him. "I'm not going anywhere with you! Do you honestly think I could live with myself while Spock and my friends are all rotting in jail? Either lock me up with them, or release us all."

Rekar shook his head. "I cannot do that."

"Then I think this conversation is over," said Jamille, averting her eyes.

"Jamille," he said, coming closer. "Why do you refuse me? You wrench my heart-"

"You have no heart," she returned coldly. "You're nothing but an ego and a uniform. And I don't want to live here! I am so tired of this place! Everyone looks down on me here-"

"Not everyone…" His eyes were pleading and he reached out to caress her cheek. "I…"

He was about to say those three little words, but she couldn't bear to hear them.

"No, Rekar. You don't." She shook her head sadly. "Love is selfless. When you really love someone, you put what's best for them over your own desires. If you truly cared, you wouldn't force me to live in a world where I'm neither welcome nor respected."

Rekar seemed to deflate. After a long pause he straightened himself up and resumed his snide, militaristic air. "Very well. You leave me no choice."

He punched a few orders into the console nearby, then escorted her down the hall, where they were soon joined by other guards and Unificationists.

The major swiped his badge at the door and waved toward the street. "Go."

The other dissidents didn't need to be told twice, but Jamille just blinked. "You won't get in trouble for this?"

"This is your last chance, Earth woman," the Romulan said coldly. "Take it and go back to your home."

Jamille looked toward the street, then back at Rekar. Finally she stepped over the threshold. But before she could offer her gratitude the door slammed shut behind her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

* * *

Bea was very happy, but very busy with all her wedding preparations; especially since Pardek wasn't much help in that quarter.

"Pardek dear, what do you think of these floral arrangements?" she called from the midst of a mountain of magazines and fabric swatches.

"If you like them, buy them," he replied simply.

"What color should we choose for our theme?"

"Whatever color makes you happy, Buttercup. You don't have to ask."

"But Pardek, this is your wedding, too!" she complained. "You must give me _some_ feedback."

"Oh all right then, if you insist. Let's start with the menu."

At first Bea was glad just to finally hear some opinions from him. But as the menu began to take shape, she became increasingly concerned. On this occasion, it seemed like Pardek always opted for the richest, most unhealthy foods.

"Pardek, why don't we add some fresh fruits and vegetables to the menu?" she suggested. "I wish we could find some good avocadoes here on Romulus; the replicated ones aren't any good. But we could still do some salads or fruit bowls…"

"Sure, if that's what you'd like to eat. But I'd prefer Galorndon stew, fried turdok, and don't forget the Delvan pudding-"

"Pardek!"

"What?"

"You can't be eating all of that rich food anymore. It's not healthy!"

"But it's our wedding, and you asked for my opinion," he reminded her.

"But if you keep eating all that greasy food, you're… you're…" her lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. "I'm afraid that we won't be together very long!" She sobbed and buried her face in one of the squares of fabric.

"Oh, don't cry, Buttercup," Pardek hugged her tears away. "Alright, I promise that after the wedding I'll go on a diet."

Bea smiled. "Ok."

The clock chimed 11 a.m.

"Time for me to get going," said Pardek.

"But I thought the Senate wasn't meeting until 13:00?"

"Yes, but if I leave now I'll have time to catch some lunch and drop this order at the caterer's."

Beatrice followed him to the door. "Be careful," she said anxiously.

"I will," he replied, and was gone.

Bea went back to what she was doing. Presently, the doorbell rang. She rose to answer it, then remembering that she was no longer a servant, she sat back down.

A moment later the butler announced, "Senator Letant."

"Good morning to you, Miss Wylder."

"And to you," she returned politely, inwardly wondering what that pompous meant by coming there.

Letant looked around. "Where is old Pardek?"

"He's on his way to the Senate." An awkward moment later she added, "Shouldn't you be heading there as well?"

"So, you're actually going through with it," he said, shaking his head at all the wedding trappings.

"Yes I am." Beatrice folded her arms, making sure her diamond ring caught the light in the process. "And what concern is that of yours? Have you come to offer your congratulations?"

Letant chuckled. "No. Not quite." Turning a few pages of the magazines, he continued, "You know, ever since our memorable little meeting in the marketplace, I've been asking myself, 'Why? What could a young girl like that possibly see in that old buzzard?' Then it hit me: no one else has made her a _better_ offer. So here I am, another wealthy Romulan Senator offering himself for your consideration," he declared flippantly.

Bea narrowed her eyes. "Get out."

But Letant was not deterred. "Oh come now, we both know that I'm a much better choice for you. I'm handsome, witty, charming and much nearer your age. I can show you a far better time than that-"

"I said get out!" she repeated with hostility. "I'd rather die than play house with a conniving little guttersnipe like you!" She tossed a small metal vase at him and grabbed a poker from the fireplace.

Letant dodged the vase, but her insults hit him right in the heart. "I am a man of honor," he insisted gravely, "and I cannot bear to see you throw yourself away, Beatrice. Choose me, and upon my life, I swear I will treat you like a queen!"

Bea saw that he was sincere and all the fight went out of her. "I'm sorry, but I've already made my choice. I am going to marry Pardek."

The senator was crestfallen. "Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?"

"No." Beatrice pointed toward the door. "Now leave."

Letant's handsomely squared jaw tightened and he bowed. As he turned to quit the room, he caught sight of the wedding invitations stacked on a nearby table. He snatched the one addressed to himself, tore it up, and cast it into the fire. Then he left.


End file.
